Sakada bears witness
to a single encounter between electronic musician Mattin and percussionists
Rosy Parlane (Parmentier/Sigma Editions, Thela, Pit Viper) and Eddie Prévost
(AMM and too much else to name). The former uses his machine to nurture
a swarm of singularly malign hisses, gurgles and overtones. Occasionally
these swell up to become truly invasive before suddenly recoiling; at
other times they loiter darkly in an awkward middle distance.
Much of the music's depth and elusiveness comes from the way individual
sounds are sharply differentiated yet entangled tightly. Percussion rarely
interrupts liquid feedback with punctual impact: rather, it generates
a second, third, fourth writhing body of sustained sound. Objects chime
or are scraped or rung as often as hit, allowing distinct conjunctions
to emerge and persist before falling away. This sure conjuring of time
from noisy fury gives Sakada a rare sensual and expressive coherence,
and demands repeated, careful listening. Matthew Hyland